


You Know What, You're Lovely

by missmichellebelle



Category: Glee
Genre: Dancing, Fluff, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-08
Updated: 2012-06-08
Packaged: 2017-12-20 10:43:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/886326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missmichellebelle/pseuds/missmichellebelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is something infinitely more fulfilling about stirring pasta when it’s to the rhythm of Frank Sinatra, or so Blaine believes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Know What, You're Lovely

“ _I won’t dance, don’t ask me! I won’t dance, don’t ask me! I won’t dance, Madame, with you_."

There is something infinitely more fulfilling about stirring pasta when it’s to the rhythm of Frank Sinatra, or so Blaine believes. He does a grapevine to the right, twirling as he picks up the salt and pepper, and then slides back into place, flicking the spices into the pot to the beat.

Blaine flicks the spoon out of the water, holding it a few inches from his mouth as he makes faces at himself in the reflective backsplash.

“ _You know what, you’re lovely. You know what, you’re so lovely. And, oh, what you do to me._ ”

There are times when their incredibly tiny kitchen is practical, and that time comes when Blaine spins to slip the colander into the sink. He shimmies back around to the stove, mixing the pasta before checking the meat sauce (after a jazz square, of course).

Cooking dinner is sort of Blaine’s thing, as far as household chores go. He’s normally home earlier than Kurt, and the first few times Kurt had attempted to cook when he got home it simply hadn’t worked. This was better, and it was so much easier to dance in the kitchen when it was just him.

“ _And that’s why, I won’t dance, why should I? I won’t dance, how could I? I won’t dance, merci beaucoup._ ”

The pasta goes into the strainer after Blaine waltzes momentarily with the pot, another spin to take the meat off the burner, and a trot to the fridge to take out the salad. He slips the French loaf from the pantry and holds it close, sliding on the balls of his feet as the song reaches it’s crescendo.

“ _I won’t dance!_ " He dips the bread low in his arms, holding his pose until applause draws him from it.

"Kurt!" He nearly drops the bread, looking up at him in surprise.

"Should I be concerned that you’re having a torrid love affair with a carbohydrate?" Kurt leans against the door frame, watching him with amusement.

"Aren’t we all?" Blaine grins, setting the bread on the counter before moving towards Kurt, kissing him lightly on the lips. “Welcome home. How long have you been standing there?"

"Since you sang into the spoon," Kurt says through a laugh, and Blaine groans, letting his head fall into the crook of Kurt’s neck. “It’s okay, if I didn’t know what I was getting into, we wouldn’t be getting married." Blaine smiles against Kurt’s skin as Kurt kisses his temple.

"Hey," Blaine says quietly, and Kurt twists to look at him, a noise of acknowledgement humming deep in his throat. “Dance with me?"

"Your playlist ended. There’s no music."

Blaine still lifts up Kurt’s hand, lacing it with his before placing the other one behind his neck. Blaine clutches close at Kurt’s  hip, leaning in and pressing their cheeks together.

"That’s okay," he whispers, beginning to sway them back and forth.

“ _Someday, when I’m awfully low, when the world is cold, I will feel aglow just thinking of you,_ " Blaine sings, and he can feel Kurt smile against his cheek. Kurt shifts them until their foreheads are pressed together and Blaine is practically singing against his lips, soft, brushing kisses.

“ _And the way you look tonight._ ”


End file.
